Home
by Vera Steine
Summary: Post 'Journey's End', complete. In the wake of all that had happened, something had to give. Maybe this was it. Jack/Ianto.
1. return

**Title**: Home  
**Author**: Vera Steine  
**Disclaimer**: Don't own 'em, never will. Will play with them, rinse them and put them back in the cupboard when I'm done. That would be the cupboard at the BBC.  
**Rating**: K+ (PG)  
**Pairing**: Jack/Ianto  
**Spoilers**: Journey's End (Doctor Who)  
**Author's notes**: The ending was frustrating. 'Nough said. So I added my own two cents. Continues from where 4.13 left off. I'm thinking of writing a sequel, but I'm not sure yet. Let me know if this feels finished or not.

--

He was tired when they arrived back at the hub. The adventure, the excitement, it had all worn off, and the bone deep exhaustion was beginning to set in. He left Martha and Mickey at a hotel in town before heading to the hub, feeling a strange kind of pride at being able to come home again to his, if somewhat small, team. As the lift descended into the hub, he heard the yells from both Gwen and Ianto as they saw it descend. Gwen was first to reach him as he stepped off the stone, throwing her arms about his neck and hugging him tightly. Ianto stayed behind, seeming a little reluctant. When Jack disengaged Gwen's arms and turned to his lover, Ianto smiled that familiar smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Instead, Jack saw reflected in those eyes the same bone deep tiredness he was feeling himself. He stepped towards Ianto, and the young man came into his arms so naturally it was as if they'd never been any different. Jack felt the small shudder go through Ianto's body as the other man returned his embrace, turning his head briefly into Jack's shoulder as Jack kissed his hair. They came apart too soon.

He gave Ianto a reassuring grin, then turned to Gwen to answer the many questions she was firing at him. She was tugging him along to the centre of the hub, where they had started with the cleanup operation after what must have been a bumpy ride. Over her shoulder, she said, "Ianto, be a love, make us some coffee?"

Ianto nodded without saying a word, and moved off towards the coffee machine, which had apparently survived the trip. When he returned with three mugs, Jack gave them both a short explanation of what had happened, reducing events significantly to save on time. They drank their coffees, and soon Jack was feeling the exhaustion come back. Eventually, he said, "Guys, I'll tell you all about it, but not today. I need some sleep."

Gwen nodded, smiled in his direction, and said, "I better get home too." She stood up and moved off to gather her coat and bag.

Ianto shuffled his feet for a moment before getting up as well, saying, "I -- suppose I better --"

"Ianto." Jack interrupted. He looked into Ianto's tired blue eyes. "You don't have to go. I mean, I won't be up to much," he paused, "but I'd like the company."

Ianto gave him a small smile. "You don't need to make exceptions for me, Jack.."

Jack shook his head, feeling frustration push at his mind and clamping down on it. "I'm not. I'm tired, and I don't want to talk about it any more, but I don't want you to go. I want you in my bed. I don't want to sleep alone."

Ianto's reply was lost as Gwen chose that moment to call out, "Goodnight, see you in the morning!" The door rolled back and she exited the hub, sketching one last wave at them before the door closed again behind her.

Ianto watched her go. He turned back to Jack when the door had closed, fidgeting with the edge of his waistcoat. He looked hesitant, as if on the verge of saying something, but not being quite sure. Jack debated waiting him out, but his impatience won and he finally said, "I want you here."

Ianto looked straight at him, seeming to come to a decision. "Why?" he asked, his tone a little hostile.

Jack leaned back in his seat, not breaking eye contact. "Do I need to have an answer to that?"

"Yes, Jack," Ianto said, sounding angrier than Jack would have liked him to. "I'm here and I'm not planning on going anywhere, but I do need to know where this is going."

Jack struggled to keep his voice level when he answered, fatigue making him irritable. "This isn't going anywhere. I can't offer anything, and you know it. You've always known it."

Ianto seemed frozen in place. He replied, "I _do_ know, I've always known. And you've never heard me complain."

"Then what is this about?" Jack shot back in annoyance.

Ianto hesitated, then finally shook his head. "Forget about it. I'm going home."

Jack was on his feet in a second, reaching for Ianto, grabbing his arm. "No, wait a minute. You're not walking away from this."

Ianto's eyes flashed. "What do you want me to say, Jack? Because you don't want to hear it."

"Who said I don't want to hear it?"

"You like it this way. I don't ask for anything, and you can pretend you can walk away any second. Or maybe you can, and that makes the difference." The emotions started colouring Ianto's voice the more he talked, allowing hurt and pain and anger to shimmer through.

Jack took a deep breath and suppressed his initial angry retort. He thought for a moment, and then answered, "I can't walk away from this as easily as you seem to think."

"Isn't it exactly what you just did?" Ianto shot back.

"No," Jack said emphatically. "I _had_ to go. But I promised you, I came back."

"I'm tired of sitting around waiting for you to come back!" Ianto shouted abruptly.

Jack let go of Ianto's arm in surprise, and they stared at each other, Ianto seeming startled by his own outburst. Then Jack said slowly, "I don't offer anything because I can't promise you anything. I can't promise you that I won't need to leave at a moment's notice." His voice was low as he continued, "That doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"I know you care," Ianto replied softly, the anger seeming to have seeped away. He was silent for another moment, then added, "I _love_ you."

Abruptly, Jack stepped forward and took Ianto's face in his hands, kissing him deeply. Ianto was unyielding at first, then sagged against him, arms coming around Jack's waist. When they came apart a minute later, still holding on to each other, Ianto said, "I'm not asking for much."

"I _can't_ offer you anything," Jack replied, feeling the pressure of forever pounding in his head. "I'm sorry," he tried.

"I _need_ you, Jack." Ianto held his eyes. "And it scares me how much."

"I'm here now," Jack vowed, trying to find a way to let Ianto know what he _could_ give. "You have me."

Ianto leaned in and kissed him again, deepening the kiss until the pressure in his head receded. Slowly, he pulled away. Looking into Ianto's eyes again, he said, "I'm tired, _really_ tired. All I want to do right now is go to bed and hold you close. I don't want to think, I don't want to do anything, I just want you with me. Can you give me that?"

Ianto nodded. "Whatever you need, Jack. I don't think that will ever change."

Jack felt a shiver down his spine at the resigned tone to Ianto's voice, but for now he would take what he was given, and hoped fervently he wasn't destroying his young lover, and what they had, in the process.

_finis__._


	2. feels like

Rating: T (R)  
Spoilers: Journey's End (Doctor Who), Exit Wounds  
A/N: yup, I continued at last!  I don't know exactly where this story is going, but it felt unfinished, so here it is.  A big thank you to everyone who reviewed.  This is for those of you who asked for more.  If anyone has any ideas about where this should be going, please let me know.  As always, enjoy!

--

_feels__ like ..._

"I meant what I said, about not being up to much."

They were in the bunker under Jack's office, the earlier emotional argument still simmering under the surface, but nonetheless Jack shot Ianto a big smile. The younger man smiled back automatically.

"I know, Jack. I told you, whatever you need."

Jack didn't like the sound of those words, but given their argument, he wasn't going to bring it up. Instead, he moved closer to Ianto, laying a hand on Ianto's hip. "I do want you here." He stared into Ianto's eyes, for a moment feeling helpless, completely at Ianto's mercy of whether or not the other man wanted to stay. "It's been a long day."

Ianto smiled again, that private smile that only Jack got to see. He reached out and slid a hand into Jack's hair, saying, "For me, too. Let's just --" He broke off and looked at his hand in surprise. He held it up for Jack to see, displaying fingers darkened considerably, smudged and dirty. "What happened to you, Jack?"

Jack grimaced, and told him briefly about getting shot by a Dalek and the incinerator.

Ianto paled visibly, his hand gripping Jack's arm unintentionally hard. "You died again," he said hoarsely, "you died again, Jack."

Ianto sounded hurt, disturbed, almost anguished. Jack drew him into his embrace, holding him close, drawing strength from the contact as much as Ianto was. He didn't know how long they stood like that, simply holding on to each other, but eventually Ianto was the first to move away, smiling slightly at Jack and saying, "Come on, we better get that hair of yours washed."

In the shower, Jack marvelled at how used to each other they'd become, moving around each other, anticipating the other's moves. Ianto, very gently and almost tenderly, spread the shampoo through Jack's hair and rinsed out the suds that turned grey, repeating the process until the water ran clear. Jack closed his eyes, strangely comforted by letting someone, letting Ianto, take care of him.

They'd survived a rough patch, were still surviving a rough patch, if tonight was anything to go by. Jack knew he'd asked a lot of Ianto in the last few months, dealing with the new demons that had been haunting him. During the day he'd had enough distractions, forcing himself to hold it together in front of Gwen, to still be the team leader even though he only had half his team. But at night it hadn't been so easy to hide, and Ianto had seen him at his worst a few times, bearing the brunt of Jack's emotional mood swings.

"Let's get you into bed," Ianto said, shaking him from his reverie.

He nodded, even now wanting to retort something flirtatious, and caught Ianto's raised eyebrow at his hesitance. Ianto had been expecting it, and Jack smiled enigmatically, keeping up the mystery.

They both dried off quickly, not bothering with any clothes, making their way from the small bathroom to the bedroom and crawling under the blankets. Jack pulled Ianto close against him, and Ianto draped himself half over his body, hooking one leg around Jack's, curling an arm around Jack's waist and making himself comfortable on Jack's shoulder. Tonight Jack wouldn't protest, needing the closeness and the assurance it brought.

The last 36 hours had not only taken a toll on Jack, but on Ianto as well, and as soon as he was warmly ensconced his eyes started to slide shut, and he soon drifted off to sleep. Jack closed his eyes as well, trying very hard to will all the whirling thoughts of the last 36 hours, and the last few months, years, decades, _centuries_, from his mind, but sleep was not so easy.

An hour later, he found himself still staring into the darkness. Ianto shifted on his chest, withdrew the arm that was stretched over Jack's midriff, lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes. For a moment, Jack found himself thinking how adorable that gesture was, how young Ianto looked, and almost leaned in to kiss him on the forehead.

"You can't sleep," Ianto stated, craning his neck to be able to look at Jack.

Jack nodded. "Too many things to think about." Ianto only looked at him for a while. Eventually Jack continued, "I'm sorry for leaving the way I did."

Ianto shook his head. "No, don't apologise. I've no right asking anything of you."

Jack brushed that aside. "I shouldn't have left the way I did. They would have found you, I left you defenceless, I shouldn't have done it."

Ianto cut his eyes away, dropping his gaze to Jack's chest instead. "What you need to do, was more important," he said, something in his voice that Jack couldn't quite identify.

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly. "What aren't you telling me, Ianto?"

Ianto looked back at him again, a small spark of trepidation in his eyes as if he was about to confess something. "They did find us. There's something you don't know yet, something Tosh did."

Jack tensed automatically at Tosh's name, then forced himself to relax. "What did she do?"

Ianto told him, about the time lock, the Dalek, and the saucer above the bay.

Jack felt his blood run cold. "You did what?" He sat up fully in bed, dislodging Ianto from where he'd been lying comfortably. "You let me take the only weapon out of the hub that could have saved both your lives? You knew before I left, you thought -- I was gonna come back to --"

He found himself without something to say for the first time in a long time. Contemplating the possibility of, instead of returning victorious and finding his team there, returning to find both of them dead; Gwen, Ianto, his beautiful Ianto, dead at the hands of a Dalek; his team sacrificing themselves for his peace of mind. He found he couldn't contemplate it, it made him feel sick. He rolled out of bed and stumbled blindly into the bathroom, throwing up the meagre contents of his stomach. He rinsed his mouth and took a sip of water, noticing that his hands were trembling.

When he went back into the bedroom, Ianto was looking at him with a mixture of concern and remorse on his face. Jack held up a hand to forestall him, catching his breath and digesting what he'd just been told. He was angry, but he couldn't really blame them. They were both so young, so willing to sacrifice themselves. It made him shudder to think of their mortality.

"I'm sorry," Ianto offered.

Jack shook his head. "The world was ending," he said, putting more conviction in his words than he felt. "You did what you thought was best. I'm not sure that it should have gone any other way."

They were silent for a moment. Ianto said, "Come back to bed, Jack."

He went back reluctantly, seriously considering not attempting sleep again, but still feeling exhausted, he decided working through the night tonight would not be an option. He settled back into the small bed. Ianto seemed reluctant to scoot over to him again, but Jack wanted him near now more than ever, knowing how close he had come to losing the young man. He reached out and coaxed him closer, and Ianto slid over gratefully, settling back on Jack's chest again.


	3. strike

Rating: T (R)  
Spoilers: Journey's End (Doctor Who), Exit Wounds  
A/N: a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed! You made my day. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, there are definitely a few more to follow. Oh, and Solsbury Girl, I hope I'm not going on too long with a good thing. Your reviews are awesome, I hope you'll like this chapter even though you don't think I can improve on this. Enjoy!  
Oh, and, reviews are love.

--

__

Strike ...

In the morning he went down to the morgue, taking his morning coffee and sitting on the floor against the wall, drinking it slowly. At last he looked up at drawer 47, and said softly, "Hi, Tosh."

He drank some more coffee in silence.

"Thank you for that. For saving them. I always said you were brilliant, but maybe I haven't said it often enough. I miss you around the hub."

He finished his coffee, put the mug down on the floor next to him and rested his arms on his knees.

"I know you would just push your glasses back, or your hair behind your ear, and tell me it was your job, or all in a day's work, but I wouldn't have had anything to come back to if it weren't for you. And I'm sorry, I'm _so _sorry..."

His voice trailed off in the silence of the morgue, and for a moment he was fighting the choking tears that seemed so much closer to the surface the last few months. When he regained control of himself, he continued.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. Or for Owen. I'm sorry you never got the chance at happiness you deserved. I never could offer you enough, getting you out of that place, bringing you into this. I wish you could have had freedom, Tosh."

--

He didn't know how long it was until he heard a voice.

"Jack?" Martha was coming towards him, a frown on her face, her heels clicking on the concrete floor of the morgue.

Before she reached him, he struggled up, his muscles stiff from disuse. "I'm fine," he replied, trying to ease the alarm in her eyes. "I was just... talking to a friend."

She looked at the drawers, each only identified by a number, and looked back at him. The alarm had faded from her eyes, the frown had not left her face. "Are you all right, Jack?" she asked sincerely.

He nodded, sending her a crooked grin that he knew didn't reach his eyes. "I'm fine. I will be fine."

She raised her eyebrows at that, but let the subject rest. Instead she said, "I saw Ianto when I came in, he was here early." She gave him a smile and a suggestive glance. "Is that because he was here early, or because he was here all along?"

On any other day, Jack might have grinned, but the previous night was not a good memory. He managed a smile. "He was here all along," he admitted.

"So you two are still --?" Martha said hesitantly, trying to gauge from his reaction what was going on.

Jack nodded slowly. "Yep, we're still."

Martha broke into a grin. "I'm glad," she said, seeming to want to say more, but not continuing.

Jack shrugged. "It is what it is."

The frown returned to Martha's face. "Jack --," she still seemed to be hesitating, but continued this time, "Gwen told me, what happened with your brother."

The memory of Gray, never truly in the background when he was in the morgue, or anywhere else if he were truly honest with himself, was slammed into the forefront of his mind by Martha's unexpected comment. For a moment, he was lost among the memories of earth, choking, eternity, the endlessness of everything, and the pain of coming back. Martha put a hand on his arm, and he jerked away instinctively, but it did the trick of snapping him out of the memory loop he threatened to get stuck in. "Sorry."

"You're not fine, are you, Jack?" she asked softly, her voice low with emotion.

He shrugged again, not truly wanting to admit his weaknesses to her even though there had been a time when she'd seen him at his worst.

"You'll probably never do it," Martha said, holding his eyes, "but my door is always open to you if you want to talk. I know your secrets, you don't need to explain anything to me."

Jack managed a smile that wasn't patronising or insincere, and she returned it. "I appreciate the offer, Martha, I really do."

"You probably talk to Ianto," she said quickly, "I didn't think."

The smile slid off his face. He remembered how well that had gone when he'd first got back, after cleaning up the hub, after dealing with Tosh's and Owen's deaths, dealing with Gray, after saying goodbye to John Hart, Jack had only held it together long enough to say goodnight to Gwen before collapsing. Ianto had sat up with him, that night, and three nights that followed, falling asleep at his desk during the day in the process, but nonetheless not giving up. It had taken those four nights, before Jack had been able to hold himself together longer than just during the day, those four nights until Jack had felt able to sleep in a bed without panicking, without panicking at the bunker being underground, at the blankets that were constricting him, even at Ianto's closeness.

It was also Ianto who'd cleaned up his office after he'd trashed it a week later, in a fit of rage at the injustice of Tosh's and Owen's deaths. This, too, had happened after hours, because Jack had tried desperately to keep a semblance of normality during the day, a semblance of normality that really only Gwen saw, but somehow it had been still important to him to function as a team leader.

If he were honest with himself, Ianto had also borne the brunt in other ways, when they were in bed together. For months, Ianto had made no demands, just giving whatever Jack needed, and not complaining when Jack was far from gentle. Jack had eventually realised that he was going too far before Ianto'd had to stop him, but he knew it had been a close shave, and their relationship was still recovering from it.

He looked at Martha. "Like I said, I appreciate the offer. I might take you up on it."

She gave him a small smile. "Don't stay down here, Jack. I find it's easier if you stay among the living, no matter how much it hurts."

He nodded, picking up his coffee mug from the floor. "It hurts no matter where you are. But I'll come up with you."

--

When they arrived in the hub, Mickey was standing near the door, talking to Gwen and Ianto. His face was animated, his hands were moving to describe something, quite possibly the last couple of days' events. When they heard Martha and Jack approach, Gwen and Ianto turned to their leader, and from Gwen's raised eyebrows and the look in Ianto's blue eyes, Jack realised it would have been wiser to tell his team in advance that he was going to bring in new staff, instead of the two of them showing up the next morning unannounced.

"Right, good morning, everyone! I see you've all met. Gwen, Ianto, Mickey and Martha are going to be joining us, if that's alright with you two, of course."

Gwen and Ianto exchanged a look, then looked back at Jack. For a moment no one spoke, then Ianto said smoothly, "Okay, who's for coffee? You can put your coat up there," indicating the coat stand to Mickey's right hand side while moving off to the coffee machine, as Gwen said to Martha, "I'll show you where we are with the autopsies. I'm afraid there's a bit of a backlog."

Martha grinned at the other woman and moved off with her, calling over her shoulder, "Mine's still the same, Ianto."

Ianto gave her a thumbs up sign from across the hub and said something to Mickey that Jack couldn't hear.

He looked around the hub to find his team were talking animatedly. Voices were drifting up from the autopsy bay, the coffee machine was hissing in the background, there was movement, life. Jack realised he'd been missing it, and with a slight smile on his face moved off to his office.

--

Ianto came up to his office with his coffee twenty minutes later, depositing it on Jack's desk and hesitating a brief second before settling on the edge. Jack put down his pen and looked at his lover. Ianto's blue eyes were unreadable and he seemed reluctant to speak. "Something on your mind?" Jack asked lightly.

Ianto looked at his hands, before looking back at Jack. "I was just wondering, where did you pick them up? Mickey mentioned you and he go back a ways."

"Gossiping about the boss, are you?" Jack joked, but Ianto didn't respond to his jocularity. "Mickey and I have a history, that's a very, very long time ago. At least, it is for me."

Ianto's eyes softened for a moment, a look Jack was becoming accustomed to in him. "I know your life is complicated, Jack."

"Complicated doesn't cover it," Jack replied, feeling momentarily exhausted with the different timelines he had lived in and how they intersected. He shrugged it off. "We need new staff. Maybe I wasn't ready before, hiring new people, I don't know. But they both needed a change, I know them, they're reliable, and I don't want to spend a long time searching. It seemed like a good decision."

"It probably was," Ianto said quietly, holding his eyes. He gave Jack a small smile, and Jack felt his insides warm, in spite of the fact that he'd long been making decisions without consulting anyone, or without requiring anyone's opinion.

"Especially now, we need a full team." He looked at Ianto, knowing the last few days had had to have had their effect on the younger man.

Ianto nodded, getting up from his perching position and straightening his jacket. "I was just making sure..."

Jack looked up at him, Ianto suddenly seemed nervous. "Making sure of what?"

Ianto bit his lip. "I was just making sure you hadn't just hired one of your exes."

Jack blinked, his eyes involuntarily straying to Mickey working behind Tosh's old terminal on the hub floor. "Exes? Mickey Mouse? Uh, no. No way."

Ianto coloured, but smiled. "I'm sorry, Jack. I didn't want to pry, but I needed to know."

Before he could move away, Jack reached out and grabbed his wrist. The Welshman met his eyes. "Hey," Jack said softly, "you have earned a certain right to ask questions of me."

Ianto looked back at him, his eyes unreadable once more, then Jack felt Ianto's thumb caressing the inside of his wrist.

The intimacy of the gesture nearly made him shudder, and for a moment he couldn't tear his eyes away from Ianto's, wanting nothing more than to get up and pull the young man into his arms, hold him tight and not let him go until he felt secure again.

He suppressed the feeling, forced himself to look away, letting go of Ianto's wrist and trying not to think about the other man's closeness, about how easy it would be to just take five minutes and stop thinking. When he glanced back at Ianto, there was a frown of concern on his face. Jack gave him a reassuring grin and said, "We better get back to work, or we're gonna give the new staff a bad example."

Ianto nodded, pulling his professional mask back in place, and said, "Yep, I better start instructing Mickey on the mainframe."

Jack watched him walk out of the office. He felt like he was a long way from recovery, and the universe didn't seem to want to give him the time to heal. He brushed the thought away, and focused back on his work.

--


	4. lessness

Rating: T (PG-13)  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and intend no infringement.  
Spoilers: Journey's End (Doctor Who), Exit Wounds, They Keep Killing Suzie  
A/N: alas, this is the best I can make of it. For those of you who prefer happy endings, stop reading after this chapter. I mean it. Don't read chapter 5. For those of you who think you can take it, go on to the last part. Enjoy.

--  
_...lessness_

It was Gwen, who else would it be, who suggested going to the pub that evening to get to know each other better. Although, Mickey technically was the only one new to all of them except Jack, the team didn't know Martha very well either. Jack relented, seeing that the team seemed to need this bonding. He remembered that they used to do this, with Tosh and Owen, even with Suzie before Gwen, and it had seemed a good idea those times as well.

They chose a pub not far from the Plass, and Jack willingly went along with that choice, buying the first round of drinks for the team. It didn't take long before Gwen had pulled everyone into conversation, telling the tale of her wedding the previous year and making everybody laugh. She even pulled out a photo of Rhys from her wallet to show to Mickey and Martha, and in response Martha pulled out a snapshot of Tom, her fiancé, and it was passed around the table as well.

Jack was grateful for the fact that he was sitting next to Ianto, the younger man's thigh against his under the table as they sat squashed in the booth, providing a reassuring presence in what otherwise seemed a little too loud and a little too far removed from his life.

Mickey was asking the girls about their partners, about combining the job with having time for a girlfriend, and asked of Ianto, "So, mate, are you seeing anyone then?"

Martha and Gwen exchanged a glance and suppressed a chuckle. They looked at Ianto and Jack, then at each other again and burst out in laughter. Mickey looked from one to the other and then back at Ianto, saying, "What did I say? Did I miss something really obvious?" He looked at Ianto's right hand, lightly clasped around his pint glass, and back up to Ianto's face. "Are you married then? Engaged?"

Gwen and Martha were laughing louder now, making Mickey blush. The Londoner threw a glance at Jack, as if to say _save me_, and said, "Come on, what did I miss?" He looked at Ianto again, "You're not all kinds of religious, are you? So what's the harm in asking?"

Martha and Gwen's giggles were subsiding somewhat and Ianto gave Mickey a polite smile before glancing at Jack, seeming to enjoy making the Londoner guess.

"Oh for god's sake," Gwen said between bursts of laughter, "put him out of his misery, Jack."

Jack smiled and put his glass down on the table, sliding his arm around Ianto's shoulders. Mickey looked from one to the other, still baffled, until Ianto said drily, "I am seeing someone. I'm with Jack."

Mickey looked from one to the other again, then back at Gwen and Martha, his eyes finally resting on Ianto. He blurted out, "You're with Captain Innuendo over there?"

Ianto raised a quiet eyebrow at this comment and looked at Jack, who knew that this had to mean something, somewhere, but the memory eluded him for a moment and the pain of that sat hollow in his chest. He ignored it, pushed it under, and gave Ianto a fond smile before focusing on the rest of the team. To cover it, he offered to buy another round of drinks, something the team eagerly made use of. When he came back, he slid his arm around Ianto's waist again as if they'd never been any different.

--

He lost all track of time after he climbed up to the Millennium Centre roof that night. The stars were out in full force, and he looked at them, wishing he could find some answers among the bright specks of light. There were none, he'd known there were none, just as he knew he needed to find his own way back to sanity and a normal life as far as that could be had. It didn't stop him from being inordinately reassured by the wind through his hair, the drops of rain that occasionally splattered on his face, the sounds of the city, anything but the memories of earth, gravel, and dust. He'd always liked the unrestrictedness of roofs, felt somehow that this planet wasn't quite so constrictive, restrictive, if he could see more of it, be closer to the stars, feel the elements. He'd started the habit of climbing on to rooftops early on in his career at Torchwood, when he was even more restricted than now that he had his own team. The habit had stuck.

The service door open behind him, soft, hesitant footsteps on the metal, and Jack turned, knowing who was behind him. Ianto, fully dressed but without his tie, his coat buttoned up against the strong winds this high up, was cautiously making his way toward Jack. He held out a hand as soon as the young man came closer, felt Ianto's fingers clasp around his and he pulled him close. Ianto wasn't afraid of heights, but anyone who wasn't immortal would be intimidated by the slippery curved roof of the Millennium Centre.

"Couldn't sleep?" Jack said softly, still holding on to Ianto's hand as they stood side by side.

"Missed you in bed."

Ianto's tone betrayed little, but he wasn't usually prone to emotional statements, and that meant a lot. "Sorry," he offered. "I know I haven't been exactly -- lately --"

Ianto looked at him sideways, and Jack forced himself to meet the young man's eyes. "It's all right, Jack."

There was that resigned tone again, the tone of voice in which Ianto had told him, _whatever you need_, that had then and did now give Jack shivers down his spine. "No," he tried again, "I'm sorry for what I've been doing to you -- for everything --" He made a sweeping gesture as if to encompass not just the city, but the events of the last few months. "I don't make things easy on you."

A dry chuckle came from Ianto. "If I wanted easy, Jack, I never would have propositioned you."

That memory, unlike so many others, was all of a sudden crystal clear in his mind, and brought an unexpected grin to his face. "I remember that," he said. "For a moment there, I thought I'd stepped into a parallel universe."

"Was the thought of me propositioning you so alien to you?"

Jack shook his head. "In hindsight, no. We'd been turning around each other since -- well, since the beginning. But after everything that had happened, and happened that day, it was the furthest thing from my mind."

"I know," Ianto said quietly. Something in his eyes betrayed a hidden guilt. "I knew then, that you wouldn't be thinking, wouldn't see it coming," he blushed, "I thought that improved my chances of not being rejected."

Jack laughed. It felt good to laugh, it felt like he hadn't laughed enough lately, and the memory of everything that had happened suddenly came to the forefront again. It sobered him up too quickly.

Ianto squeezed his hand, seeing it, sensing it, the moment between them lost too soon because of the demons Jack was still facing and fighting. He felt guilty at that.

They stood quietly for a while, letting the wind and slight drizzle howl around them, letting the lull of Cardiff's late-night traffic wash over them. Finally Ianto said, "Do you think you're coming back inside?"

Jack looked at him, taking a proper look at him, the kind of look he hadn't given Ianto in a long time. Ianto's cheeks were red from the cold wind, droplets of moisture were clinging to his short hair and even his eyelashes, his blue eyes were warm and filled with affection, and something more, something Jack knew was love, directed at him. It almost took his breath away, this young man, so young, so vulnerable, the trust he saw in Ianto's eyes, the sacrifice he and Gwen had been willing to make.

"Jack?"

He realised he'd been silent too long, nodded, shook his head, trying to remember what Ianto had asked him. "I don't know," he finally said, wishing for a moment he could build a bed right here under the stars, hold Ianto close and just stay like that forever. But nothing lasts forever, and no one knew that better than Jack Harkness.

"I've got to get back," Ianto said at last, an apology in his tone. He pulled his hand slowly out of Jack's, and took two steps away from him.

"Maybe I'll join you," Jack said, but made no move to do so.

Ianto turned and looked, surprised, but when Jack didn't move, he went inside.

--  
_tbc_


	5. too close to

Rating: T (PG-13)  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I intend no infringement.  
Spoilers: Journey's End (Doctor Who), Exit Wounds  
A/N: the last chapter, and it's not a happy one. You have been warned. I wanted to write a happy ending, but the characters had other ideas, and this series needed to finish. I'm trying to move in a different direction as a writer, and this should be the last unbeta'ed thing I'll produce. If it's unsatisfactory, I apologise. Without further delay, I present:

--  
_too close to ..._

They were getting ready for bed, as if it was somehow a settled routine, which Jack began to realise it probably was becoming. They took turns brushing their teeth, stripped down to their boxers, and Jack settled into the bed first, Ianto sliding between the covers after him. Jack rolled onto his side and propped his head up on one hand, looking at Ianto lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. "So, they survived the first week."

A shadow of something crossed Ianto's face. "Survived seems an accurate term."

Jack's fingers suddenly itched to reach out and run through Ianto's hair, but something, maybe it was the tone of Ianto's voice, maybe the fact that he was still staring at the ceiling and not looking at Jack, kept him back. "It wasn't that bad," he tried.

Ianto finally cut his eyes to him. "You had to step in and save Mickey. Twice."

"All beginnings are hard," Jack said, trying to be upbeat. It was true, even though taking Mickey out for his first weevil capture had ended in Jack's death, twice, as he'd stepped in to save the new field agent from certain demise, and had led to an awkward explanation to Mickey how it was that he'd come back to life again. He'd had a feeling then, that Ianto wasn't best pleased with the situation, but he hadn't had the emotional strength to try and discuss it with him, and Ianto hadn't said anything himself.

"How many times are there going to be beginnings, Jack?"

Jack sighed. There were a lot of things he didn't want to talk about. "More for me than for you," he said, colder than he'd intended.

Ianto looked away, focusing on the ceiling again. "I know."

Jack said nothing after that. It felt like there was nothing more to say, and maybe they would never be able to discuss that part of their future together, if there was a future together. It felt like there was _so much _they should talk about, so much they _needed _to discuss. He knew there were so many things he should say, so many things he should apologise for, so many things he owed Ianto an explanation about. But like so many times before, the words stuck in his throat, and he felt he was without the strength to deal with it. There was a pressure on his shoulders, on his chest, a pressure he knew and he fought it. _Don't think of choking_, he reminded himself, _don't think of the smell of damp earth_. To counteract the memories that sometimes were the only thing clouding his mind, he leaned in and buried his face against Ianto's neck, his nose in Ianto's hair. For a moment, Ianto tensed and lay perfectly still, and Jack feared being pushed away. Then Ianto slid his free hand over Jack's shoulder and into his hair, holding him in place, letting the strands slide through his caressing fingers. It never ceased to amaze Jack the last few months that Ianto seemed to sense what he needed; maybe he had before then, too, and he felt a lump in his throat at the realisation that he couldn't remember, couldn't remember if his lover had always been this caring, if they'd been different or the same. He could smell the citrusy scent of Ianto's shampoo, a hint of aftershave that was still left on his skin, and fought to rid his mind of anything else. They lay like that for a while, Ianto's fingers running through his hair, Jack lying close to him till at last he felt the pressure recede. He pulled away slightly and Ianto let him go, moving his hand back down Jack's arm, Ianto's fingers sliding along his palm, teasing his own.

"Jack."

He opened his eyes to find Ianto had turned his face towards him and was looking at him. He forced himself to keep holding Ianto's gaze, even though the sweet anguish and misery was almost impossible to bear.

"I can't keep doing this."

_At last, it happened. _The words he'd been fearing for the last months, the words that would implode his world, implode what was left of his ability to survive; Ianto had at last said what he'd feared was going to happen and what he'd fought so long to prevent. "I know," was the only thing he could find to reply.

"I love you," Ianto said, his voice thick with emotion, "but I can't go on like this. I'm hurting, Jack. I need... something you can't give me right now -- and you need --" He broke off.

Jack nodded, feeling tears push at the back of his throat and burn behind his eyes, somehow unable to shed them. "I know. I know it all. I've known it for a while, I just... didn't know how long it would be before you knew, too." The words came out in a rush.

Ianto bit his lip and nodded as well. "I've been trying to deny it. You need me, I know you do. But you don't need me enough."

Jack wanted to deny that, because he knew he needed Ianto, needed him badly. But he didn't need him enough perhaps, to fight that much harder for him, to be able to fight that much harder. "I know," he repeated uselessly.

Ianto leaned in and kissed him, a soft pressure on his lips that was nothing more than that, and couldn't soothe the gaping wound in his chest. "Get some sleep, Jack."

--

In the morning, he found himself drinking coffee on the floor of the morgue again. This time, it was drawer 48, next to Tosh, Owen.

"You'd love this, Owen." Jack laughed drily, no real mirth in it. "You'd have laughed at me if you knew, if I'd come to talk to you. 'Teaboy's broken up with you?', you'd say, and you give me one of those incredulous looks, as if you can't quite believe it's for real. You never stopped looking at me like that, Owen. Like you never truly started believing in aliens, more like you could never really trust me to tell you the truth."

He sighed deeply, pushing his coffee away from him. He leaned his forehead on his knees and stared at the concrete floor.

"I might have hurt you most of all, Owen. You never had happiness, you never had the sort of joy you deserved. I promised once that I would save you, and I never did. I tried to --"

He leaned back and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, the tears he couldn't shed last night all of a sudden burning his eyes and rolling down his cheeks silently.

"I'm sorry, Owen. I'm sorry."

He pressed his fist to his mouth to stop the sobs from escaping and took a few deep breaths to try and get himself under control again.

"If you'd see me like this you'd laugh at me." He tried a lopsided grin. "'No use crying over a dead man, Jack', you'd joke. 'I was already dead, remember?' You'd say something like that, gallows humour, you were always good at that." Ah, Owen...

He was silent for a moment.

"It was just bluster, wasn't it, Owen? You were hiding so much behind that sharp mind and quick mouth. You just pushed people away... I think you were even jealous of Ianto. I don't care any less for you, Owen."

He sat there for a while longer, but he'd run out of things to say. Eventually he stood up, dusted off his clothes, and left the morgue.

--

Martha brought him his coffee mug later that morning. She set it down on his desk and sat down in the visitors chair across from him. "You left it in the morgue this morning."

Jack looked at it. "Did I?"

Martha merely raised her eyebrows. "What's going on with you, Jack?"

He sighed, suddenly feeling all his years. He rested his elbows on the desk and pressed his palms to his eyes. When he looked back at Martha, there was a frown of concern on her face. "I don't know what's going on with me, Martha."

She reached across the desk and laid her hand over his. "I can't pretend I can understand what you've been through, but I saw you, on the Valiant. I saw you, how strong you were. Where did all that strength go, Jack?"

He knew there were tears in his eyes, and he didn't want her to see. He blinked a few times to try and clear them. "This was nothing like that, Martha." He tried to find the energy to smile, but his muscles didn't work. "This was nothing but darkness, endless death... The Valiant, there were good days, there were people, there was light, food, respite."

Her eyes didn't leave his face, but she seemed to have run out of words. He didn't care, he'd said more than he'd ever intended to tell her already.

"I know you said there was no need for me to keep secrets from you. You said I could talk to you."

She nodded. "Yes, but from what I've seen, that Ianto is there for you already."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Not any more, Martha." He shook his head. "Not any more. We're over."

She gasped, withdrawing it from his, bringing a hand up to her mouth. "Since when?"

"Last night."

She stared at him. "But who, how?"

"He'd had enough," Jack said, running a hand through his hair. "I can't blame him. He's been through so much. He needs me to be there for him, can't expect him to always be there for me. I can't even _remember _if he was always there for me," he added bitterly.

--

Ianto still served him coffee, and the hardest thing was not to grab him and beg him to take him back. It had been a long time since Jack had been in the position of having been broken up with by someone he really wanted. It was hard to watch Ianto walk around the hub, doing his job, sit down the table from him in boardroom meetings, and meet his eyes as they worked, both of them looking away quickly. The pain that shot through his chest every time their eyes met didn't lessen, and at the end of the day he was exhausted.

The last few months, and he remembered, those before as well, when he needed someone, when he didn't want to be alone, he'd ask Ianto to stay, and the young man always did. It was _that _he wanted most, Ianto's warm presence in bed, Ianto's soft reassuring voice, someone to help him forget for a while, sex and companionship.

An hour of tossing and turning and he gave up, got dressed again and headed for the roof. The Millennium Centre roof was dry, the moon was out, and for a while he lay on his back staring at the stars, wishing now more than ever that he could go back to travelling beyond them. If there was no Ianto Jones, what was keeping him here? What was keeping him tethered to a planet that was little more than a hunk of rock, spinning about a no more than average star, in a solar system that had little to offer in the way of intergalactic life? He knew the answer to it, knew his responsibilities and duties lay there as well as his personal preferences for this planet. Still, he wondered what he would be doing if he could go away. Try his luck in the Vegas Galaxy, pay a visit to the time agency at the height of its glory, try and find the Doctor, see if he still wanted a companion.

He sighed. The pain in his chest didn't lessen.

--  
_finis_


End file.
